When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. One main avenue was for her to become a sort of salaried accessory wife or mother, to be a governess or an assistant schoolmistress, or a very high type of governess-nurse. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. "Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland. "To the world's end," answered Jack, darting after him. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely.
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